"On your life, my Lord Marquis, do not meddle here," he warned him in a
voice that was like a trumpet-call.
And before that ferocious aspect and those naked weapons Sforza-Fogliani
stood checked and intimidated.
I too had drawn my poniard, determined that Farnese should fall to my steel
in settlement of the score that lay between us. He saw the act, and if
possible his fears were increased, for he knew that the wrongs he had done
me were personal matters between us for which it was not likely I should
prove forgiving.
"Mercy!" he gasped, and held out supplicating hands to Galeotto.
"Mercy?" I echoed, and laughed fiercely. "What mercy would you have shown
me against whom you set the Holy Office, but that you could sell my life at
a price that was merciless? What mercy would you have shown to the
daughter of Cavalcanti when she lay in your foul power? What mercy did you
show her father who died by your hand? What mercy did you show the
unfortunate Giuliana whom you strangled in her bed? What mercy did you
ever show to any that you dare ask now for mercy?"
He looked at me with dazed eyes, and from me to Galeotto. He shuddered and
turned a greenish hue. His knees were loosened by terror, and he sank back
into the chair from which he had risen.
"At least.
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